Sunday, March 29, 2009

Empty Rooms


So B and I went to Glenwood Springs for a romantic weekend.  HA!  Our romance was trumped with house-buying madness.  We were completely preoccupied with our house, house, house! Time alloted for canoodling and eye-gazing was usurped by house negotiations with our landlord/realtor/pal who was also on a mountain getaway, hostile take-overs of the 1 hotel computer, & manipulating the various front-desk women into allowing us to use their scanner. 

Friends of ours know we've been looking for a house for almost a year.  Our search began April 2008 and we have tried to buy 8... yes 8... houses in that time.  

House 1- under contract before we offered
House 2- Contract!  But they refused to lower the price $10g or fix the roof so we walked away
House 3- under contract when we saw it...um...yeah... 
House 4- Contract! Short Sale....nuf said
House 5- Told there were so many offers that we "shouldn't bother"
House 6- Outbid
House 7- Won the bidding war.  Learned the house was falling down & walked away
House 8- Maybe??? The one???

So, this house is pretty great.  Great hood, great character, nice backyard, and 3 bedrooms so there's room to grow.  And here's where I start to feel weird...

Ideally...I wanted a 4-bedroom.  Room for a master, and the 3 kids B & I have planned.  3 bedrooms is a compromise since we ::might:: grow out of it in a few years.   That's a mighty big might.  I should have written it in a ginormous font.  What if those other 2 bedrooms sit there and we never grow out of this house???  Sure, our guests will be plenty comfy in their nice queen as opposed to some blow-up mattress (you're welcome mom & dad), but I know the 'rents would gladly tolerate some morning aches & pains in exchange for grandbabies.  

I sure hope things turn out and we fill up those rooms (please God, at least one of them) and they don't sit there as a testament to my biological failure to procreate. 

Meanwhile, I'm already thinking about our next trip.  And my new fugly-ass kitchen...

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Insurance Companies Bite

I did it!  I scheduled an appointment with an RE.  Who knew I was going to be a giant stress ball about this whole thing?  I was obsessing over who to see b/c I didn't want some hack messing around with all my reproductive bits. So, thanks local nesties for your recommendations!  I'm actually looking forward to my first appointment!  

Find RE- Check!
Schedule w/ RE- Check!
Get bent over by insurance company- Check!

I guess this is pretty standard, but I don't care!  I called my insurance company to find out what they cover.  The conversation went something like this:

Me: Hello, what's your definition of infertility?

Operator: Infer-what?

Me: Infertility, you moronic bimbo.  Me no make babies good

Operator: Oh. Broken baby-maker.  Let me look that up.  (typing)  Here's our definition: Infertility- the universe's way of controlling the world's population.  Guess you'll have to pay for this yourself.  (laughs maniacally)

Me: (Bent Over) Fuck.  

I'd sure like to know why we pay premium price for pitiful coverage.  $40 co-pays and now infertility treatments that will suck our wallets clean with the kind of intensity not seen since Jenna Jamison. 

Sorry for all the sexual references in this post.  But hell, we're talking about reproduction here people!

Monday, March 16, 2009

Another One Bites the Dust

So, I went to the endocrinologist today for my follow-up.  45 minutes and a $40 copay later and I was finally seen.  It was an anti-climactic 5 minutes.  She took my blood pressure, encouraged me to increase my Metformin dose to 2000 if I continue to tolerate the 1500mg, and sent me out the door with the name and number for both a Reproductive Endocrinologist and an OBGYN. 

I think my supervisor thinks I have Cancer or some scary chronic condition.  Infertility IS a scary chronic condition.  Especially if you're talking to 50-something men, like my supervisor...I hate those awkward conversations.  "Um...I have a doctor's appointment... and I'm going to have some more.  Wanna hear about my broken vagina?"  That's about right.  Except I don't talk about my special broken parts.

I saw on Facebook a friend of mine is pregnant... with twins! Oh yes, the Hulk-like transformation is taking over!  I have become bitter, jealous infertile woman.  I'm going to end up one of those crazies who walks around with a doll in a stroller, throwing it birthday parties, and introducing it to my friends.  B says if this ever happened, he would have me locked up.  I asked if I could take my fake baby with me.  But then that's probably not a good idea.  Some wild woman named Billy Jo would probably use it to put cigarettes out on if I were locked up.  Oops, I just got prison and the mental hospital confused!

Well, maybe this month will be good.  Day 14 and my temps are looking good. Plus our magical lube came in the post today.  Ovulation + Magic Lube + Boot Knockin + L.U.C.K. = Maybe Baby. I'll keep hoping...

Saturday, March 14, 2009

The Fertility Project

So, let's see.  I think the most important thing to know is that this blog is covert.   Reason being, I'm infertile and so we're not telling anyone about our baby-brewing efforts.  Since the reproduction of our genetic code is black-ops, I'm not telling anyone I know about this blog. This, of course, conjures up images of sperm outfitted in ninja outfits while a Sydney Bristow wigged egg tries to repel out of my ovary (unsuccessfully).

But, for the love of GOD, I need a good outlet.  I'm a chatty, over-sharing person.  If you're my friend, chances are you've heard me talk about poop, gas, pap smears, or that time my vag smelled like marijuana (has this happened to anyone else?). So, to keep this one underwraps from everyone I know is completely against my nature.  

Our journey to-date: 
April 2005- Diagnosed with PCOS

August 2005- Meet B. Dating and making out immediately follow

July 2006- Get engaged.  Move in together.

September 2007- Get murried.

January- Start counting the days between periods.

August 2008- Get my period. Stop trying to NOT make a babe.

September 2008- No period. No BFP.

October 2008- Um...no period. No BFP. Let's go see a reproductive endocrinologist.  Hello Doctor? Please refer me to a reproductive endocrinologist. Go see endocrinologist.  

November 2008- Get put on Metformin 500 mg with the instruction to double dose in 2 weeks. Oh yeah, and she says if it doesn't work for several months they'll refer me to an RE.  (B and I exchange glances.  We thought she WAS an RE???) Increase dose.  Nausea, fainting in the shower, laying on the floor naked while my dog sniffs me are all wonderful side-effects that follow.  But I push on through.  1000 mg conquered after several uncomfortable days and low-level stomachy nastiness for 1 month.  Oh, yeah... Start charting.  

December 2008- Anovulatory cycle.  Tell my friend about charting (I told you I have a big mouth.  I tell her I'm charting for a year before trying).

January 2009- Ovulate!  On Day 30, but who cares???  But oops, we didn't time our boot-knocking correctly.  Maybe next month? I up my dose to 1500 mg. After vomiting all night and replaying November's bathroom-floor date decide to go back to 1000 mg.  Email to endocrinologist confirms this is a good decision. 

Oh, and my friend referenced in December is knocked up.  Yay!  And fuck.

February 2009- Moronic OBGYN visit.  She tries to put me on BCP after I tell her I'm on Metformin and not using any contraception...Um...hello? I'm trying to get knocked up, biatch and I have PCOS. She recommends an ultrasound to "rule out" anything else.  Ultrasound reveals PCOS (Surprise! This- is my THIRD diagnosis.  Wow...helpful. ).  Oh, but I learn my left ovary is way more sucky and special-needs than the right. And I was introduced to the dildo cam.

March 2009- Another anovulatory cycle.  Currently on Day 11 and the temps are more normal than the non-ovulating cycles. I think I ovulate with my R ovary and the L sucks ass. Oh, and I upped my dose back to 1500 after reading on how to get rid of all the nasty side effects.  It's been a week and I haven't kissed the bathroom floor or toilet once!  Endocrinologist visit is on Monday!

Whew, that's a lot to put down.  But, there you go!